


Night Hides the Thief

by gialaxy



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Autistic!Dirk, M/M, for an anon on tumblr, this is longer than i intended oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 12:09:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9384392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gialaxy/pseuds/gialaxy
Summary: The only constants between how the universe is supposed to be and how the universe is: the twitching of Dirk's leg, the frantic mania with which he writes, and the pacing before he falls asleep. Unfortunately, the man Dirk is falling in love with finds one of these quirks helplessly annoying.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Вора скрывает ночь // Night Hides the Thief](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11771382) by [minty_mix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minty_mix/pseuds/minty_mix)



> **Words:** ~1200 (longish)  
>  **Prompt:** [here](http://holisticy.tumblr.com/post/156061903396/if-ur-still-taking-prompts-would-u-be-able-to-do)  
>  Dirk is autistic & has several routines + habits, and somewhat fluffy at the end.  
>  **Note:** I'm not autistic  & I don't experience any of these habits myself, so apologize in advance for any misconception or incorrect representations of the condition. If there's anything you'd like me to correct or change in this fic, please don't hesitate to let me know!  
>  **Update:** I got this beta'd by an autistic person  & I was asked to add that no one should ever stop an autistic person from stimming (which is what Dirk is doing by jogging his leg) unless it's harmful to themselves/others.

This is how the universe should be: Dirk solves his cases with questionable efficiency. Dirk receives payment for his complete work in multiple forms of currency (once, he was paid in cats). Dirk shivers when it is cold and fans himself when it is warm. Dirk doesn’t leave his hometown often. Dirk stumbles through the grocery store, checking ingredients and making haphazard attempts at conversation with other humans. Dirk jogs his leg and scratches down words and phrases with some kind of otherworldly fury and paces for three minutes before going to sleep. 

This is how the universe is: Dirk leaves his hometown. Dirk embarks on a strange quest involving several animals and several deceased. Dirk has a conversation with a past version of himself. He meets a man with a twisted luck. This man has a strange sense of humour and a sister with a terrible condition. Dirk saves an FBI woman from being killed by psychotic men with different souls. Dirk finds himself falling in love with the man with low self esteem. 

The thing is, Dirk is finding he prefers the way the universe is to how the universe should be. 

The only constants are the jogging of his leg, the scrawling of words on a page and the pacing at night. 

These aren’t things one would find discomforting, in fact, they do quite the opposite for Dirk Gently. A curious condition called autism which contains a surprisingly wide spectrum is what causes these impulses and routines, though Dirk himself has done minimal research on it’s subject. 

He knows this: if he does not jog his leg while sitting, he will spiral into panic. If he does not write down the words in his mind at least once a day, he will spiral into _profound_ panic. The pacing before bed is more a preference than a necessity, but still, he feels incomplete without it. 

The only problem is that the man Dirk is slowly falling in love with finds the jogging of his leg particularly annoying.

They are sitting on the couch. Todd is sprawled in the corner like some kind of anemone. Dirk is sitting in the opposite corner, somewhat curled into himself around a notepad and a 4B pencil that makes nice scratching sounds and solid, heavy lines on the paper. The words today are miscellaneous quotes from famous poets all including the word “thief”. His leg is twitching and his pencil leaves thick and grainy lines of the paper. 

The TV drones on about some family issue or another, a child almost run over by a car, a bank burglary so minute it seems irrelevant, an infertile millionaire. Todd watches through sleepy eyes. Dirk isn’t watching at all. 

Something is off about Todd today. His eyebrows seem lower and his face is set in more of a frown. His muscles look tense through Dirk’s peripheral vision. He thought it must be something on the television.

Dirk continues to write: 

_The traveller with empty pockets will sing in the thief’s face. / The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief. / Mountains hide the wolf as the night hides the thief._

Absorbed in this sea of words and thieves and prepositions and conjugations, he doesn’t notice the focus of Todd’s glare was Dirk himself. 

“Dirk,” The man in question doesn’t so much as blink.

“Dirk.” Todd says, firmer this time.

Dirk flicks his eyes up to Todd, before letting the page become his focus once more.

“ _Damn it_ , Dirk,” Todd says in exasperation. “I’m talking to you.” 

Finally, Dirk finishes scrawling the last few words. And looks up at Todd.

“Hmm?” He shuts the notebook gently, his leg bouncing, his face innocent. 

“What are you even writing, anyway?” Todd rolls his eyes. Dirk’s leg begins twitching faster. 

“Some… things. _Important_ things.” Dirk replies. Todd didn’t notice how Dirk’s knuckles pale around the bindings of the small black moleskine.

Todd shrugs, eyes back on the television, but he is still tense. Dirk tries to focus on what is happening on the screen, but it’s so mundane, it can’t hold his attention for more than a few moments.

“Hey, Dirk?” Todd asks suddenly.

“What is it?” Dirk replies distantly.

“Can you stop doing the… thing with your leg?” Todd ventures, going so far as to make a motion with his hand that was supposed to resemble the jogging of Dirk’s leg. 

“Todd,” Dirk says solemnly. “You know I can’t.”

“You can,” Todd insists.

“No, I can’t. Would you like for me to start screaming right here instead?” 

“Maybe it would drown out the stupidity of the the news,” Todd says jokingly.

Dirk mumbled something, trying to stifle the movement of his thigh but finding it near impossible. “I’m sorry, Todd, I can’t, and you know it.”

A few more moments of a monotonous news reporter droning about weather conditions, and Todd reached over and placed a hand on Dirk’s knee, pushing down. “Dirk, it’s driving me _insane_.”

Dirk’s world froze, stuck between delight that Todd was touching him voluntarily and _panic panic panic_ , slowly shifting more into the latter and, sheer discomfort on the side. 

“What is?” Dirk croaked, and he was trying very hard not to scream. 

“Two things.” Todd said. “First, your leg-jumpy thing is insanely annoying, as it shakes the whole couch.” Todd was staring straight ahead at the TV, blankly, his arm stretched out and his palm pushed down against Dirk’s blue-jeaned knee.

“And?” Dirk was finding it increasingly hard to breathe. His leg felt like it was burning with strain, but Todd was surprisingly strong. 

Todd opened his mouth to say something, but stopped at the last moment, snatching his hand away from Dirk’s knee, who’s face had gone extremely pale and shuddered, finally jogging his leg again, furiously.

“Nothing,” Todd mumbled, dropping back against the couch. “It’s nothing.”

“Are you certain?” Dirk asked. “You seemed quite enthused about it a moment ago.”

“It’s _nothing_ , Dirk.”

“Alright, then,” Dirk shrugged. He bounded off the couch suddenly, and exclaimed, “I’m going to make hot chocolate. Do you want some, Todd?”

Todd didn’t reply. Instead, he said, “What I meant to say earlier was… I mean-it’s I… I care about you, Dirk.”

“And I you,” Dirk replied lightly, opening and shutting cupboards randomly, looking for the brown container that held the cocoa powder he’d been certain he’d seen a few days ago. “Where is your-”

“Not like _that_ ,” Todd said, squeezing his eyes shut, moving to the entrance to the kitchen. “Like, as in, _like_. I like you, Dirk, and I- yeah, I’m going to go bury myself now.”

Dirk froze, his hand midway to grab a wide maroon cylinder that looked promising. Todd’s entire sentences resounded in his mind, every other thought a whirlwind.

“The thing is, Todd,” he made himself speak, and continue, and say this, even though he didn’t know what Todd would make of it, “is that I like you too.” 

“You-mean- like, like friend or-” Todd fumbled. Dirk only stood wide-eyed, too shocked at what he’d said to be able to reply properly. “Or like this?”

And Todd took a few steps forward.

And Todd leaned in.

And Todd was kissing him. 

Todd was _kissing him_.

He pulled away hastily, since Dirk hadn’t moved for quite some time. “Oh god-Dirk, I’m sorry- that was stupid- you didn’t mean-and I- _shit_.”

Dirk was beyond stunned at this point, but managed to collect himself. And in one hesitant motion downwards, Dirk was kissing Todd, who kissed back, and everything inside Dirk did a little _flip_. He was a thief, a robber of care. He was a thief of oxygen and of time, but at the moment, he didn’t particularly mind.

Dirk drew in a deep breath, and sidestepping around Todd -who had turned an unceremonious red colour-, Dirk snatched a brightly-colored leather jacket off the coat hanger, and beckoning Todd to follow him, he ran into the nighttime city, and Todd followed, a few paces behind. The last line of writing he'd scrawled down rang inside his mind like a mantra. _Night hides the thief._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this was correct and that you liked this!
> 
> Andrea xx


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